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It seemed that most of the village had heard all about him, and at the moment that was a good thing because he could dispense with the usual formalities. Jack walked straight into the house and up the stairs.
Behind him, he could hear Cass telling Harry to wait in the hallway. There was a portable gas heater on the landing, which looked as if it had been hauled out of the garden shed and pressed into service when the power failed. Jack reached out, turning it off as he passed.
The first of the back bedrooms was in darkness, and from the mess of posters on the wall its occupant must be fifteen or sixteen. Jack opened the curtains and a drowsy protest came from the bed.
‘Geroff. My head...’
‘Alex, my name’s Jack. I’m a paramedic. Get up.’ Jack didn’t bother with any niceties. He stripped the duvet off the bed and the dark-haired youth protested.
His speech was so slurred that Jack wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying, but it sounded like a none-too-polite request to go away and leave him alone. He hauled the youth up on to his feet, pulling his arm around his neck. ‘Walk. Come on.’
Jack supported the boy over to the bedroom door. He was showing all the signs of having flu—flushed cheeks, dro
wsiness and, from the way he was clutching one hand to his head, a headache. But flu didn’t get better when you went out for a walk in the fresh air, and carbon monoxide poisoning did.
‘Coming through...’ Cass’s voice on the landing. She was carrying a woman in the classic fireman’s lift, her body coiled around her shoulders. She looked to be unresponsive.
‘Harry, get out of the way!’ Cass called to the lad, who was now halfway up the stairs, and he turned and ran back down again.
‘Mum...? What’s the matter?’ He flattened himself against the wall of the hallway, letting Cass past to the front door, and Jack followed.
‘Harry... What’s going on?’ The boy at Jack’s side grabbed at his brother.
‘You’ll be okay, but you need to get into the fresh air. Now.’ Jack tried to reassure the panicking boys. He seized a couple of coats from the pegs in the hall and thrust them at Harry.
Harry transitioned suddenly from a boy to a man. ‘Go on and help Mum. I’ll see to Alex.’
* * *
Jack followed Cass out of the front door and she led the way round to the car port at the side of the house, where there was at least some protection from the rain. He tore off his coat, wrapping it around the woman as Cass lay her carefully down.
‘Her name’s Sylvie.’
‘Thanks. Will you fetch my bag, please?’ Sylvie’s breathing was a little too shallow for Jack’s liking, but at least she was breathing. Her eyelids were fluttering and she seemed lost somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. Cass nodded and a moment later the rucksack was laid down on the concrete next to him.
‘Oxygen?’ She anticipated his next instruction, opening the bag and taking out the small oxygen cylinder.
‘Thanks. Can you see to the boys? And try and knock for a neighbour; this isn’t ideal.’
‘Right you are.’ Cass disappeared and Jack held the oxygen mask to Sylvie’s mouth. ‘Sylvie... Sylvie, open your eyes.’
A figure knelt down on the concrete on the other side of the prone body. Harry picked up his mother’s hand, his face set and calm. ‘Mum...’
‘That’s right. Talk to her.’ Jack knew that Sylvie would respond to her son’s voice better than his. He cradled her, holding the mask over her face.
‘Mum... Come on now, wake up.’ Jack allowed himself a grim smile. Harry’s voice was firm and steady. ‘Open your eyes, Mum. Come on.’
Sylvie’s eyes opened and Jack felt her begin to retch. Quickly he bent her forward and she was sick all over the leg of her son’s jeans. ‘Nice one, Mum.’ Harry didn’t flinch. ‘Better out than in...’
Jack grinned, clearing Sylvie’s mouth and letting her lie back in his arms. She opened her eyes and her gaze found her son’s face.
‘Harry...I feel so ill...’
‘I know, Mum. But Cass and the paramedic are here, and you’re going to be okay.’
‘Alex...’
‘He’s okay. He’s gone with Cass.’ Harry stroked his mother’s brow.
